Closer
by BestINeverHad
Summary: For Flowerpowerbunny. A one-shot inspired by "Closer" by Nine Inch Nails. Pure smut - no plot.


**Closer**

**There was a post on Tumblr, by flowerpowerbunny, that asked for someone to do a one-shot where Stendan dance to "Closer" by Nine Inch Nails.**

**Hope you see this, love, and I hope it satisfies!**

**Rated M – obviously (have you heard this song?!)**

The club is stuffed with people, and it's hot and the air's thick, music thumping through the speakers, drunken punters grinding on each other and strobe lights roaming over sweaty bodies. Ste's with Brendan are behind the bar, the Irishman being extremely flirtatious, murmuring filth into his ear while the boy tries to ignore him, still cross with him. Brendan's drunk – just enough to be completely comfortable when he drags Ste onto the dance floor, amidst the clientele, and presses himself into the boy's back, hips rolling as he grinds into him. All attempts to snub him fail, and Ste finds himself giving in, eyes rolling back into his head when he feels Brendan's lust for him pressing snug against the crease of his arse and the small of his back.

_You let me violate you, you let me desecrate you,_

_You let me penetrate you, you let me complicate you,_

Their bodies barely separate between movements, heat so consuming and intense that they're almost choked with it, barely enough room to breathe, stuffy and just the way they like it – close and tight and hot. Brendan's large hands splay beneath the sweat-dampened polo that rudely conceals Ste's body away from him, the splay of taut golden skin over slight muscles and jutting hipbones. They grind and move in sync with each other, close to crawling under each other's skin, anything to be closer.

_Help me, I broke apart my insides, help me, I've got no soul to sell,_

_Help me, the only thing that works for me, help me get away from myself,_

This afternoon's argument isn't forgotten, but the angst only makes things more desperate, more heated and urgent.

Brendan's lips, when they ghost over the nape of Ste's neck, are enough to draw a breathy whimper from the shallow recess in his oesophagus. The sound is sufficient to snap the last string of self-control within Brendan's body, and he drags Ste into the office, locks the door with his tongue down the boy's throat, slams him against the wall, rough and feral but he knows the boy can take it, knows he loves the pain, helps amplify the pleasure.

_I want to fuck you like an animal,_

_I want to feel you from the inside,_

_I want to fuck you like an animal,_

_My whole existence is flawed, you get me closer to God,_

Ste's breathless with the Irishman's rough onslaught of his body as his clothes are shed and strewn across the floor, Brendan's mouth a rough slant over one of his nipples, then over the other, teeth and tongue working to make him buckle, the sensations spreading throughout his body and he's burning up like wildfire. He feels nails rake down the expanse of his ribs, a sharp and peculiar sensation and it shouldn't feel good but it does, feels fucking amazing.

Ste manages to get some of the buttons on Brendan's shirt undone, fingers exploring the definition of his broad chest, the solid cut of his muscles, finding their way through the course hair there and tweaking at his nipples. He's masculine, buff, and there's no element of too much or too little: he's just right, real and alluring.

Suddenly, Brendan's lips are crushed against his again, their tongues plunging into each other's mouths, and he's barely able to breathe, almost spluttering when he feels the shock of Brendan's clammy hand securing a tight hold around the pulsing length of his erection. The whole thing is rough, an apology twisted by the need to release aggression, and it's everything Ste wants and needs. It's always been this way for them; the overriding passion, the carnal desire to just _take, take and take_ everything they need from each other and give it back tenfold.

_You can have my isolation, you can have the hate that it brings,_

_You can have my absence of faith, you can have my everything,_

He's gasping and moaning and whimpering, practically sobbing, the pleasure wringing and wrenching his gut tight and he's close, so close, embarrassingly close.

And then his jeans are being yanked from his legs, pooled around his ankles and his boxers following suit and Brendan's suddenly on his knees, taking Ste's cock into his mouth and right down to the root, sucking and licking and swallowing around the head. He's relentless in his attack, Ste crying out in rapture above him, and Brendan senses the boy's orgasm before it happens. He feels the way the boy's body stiffens, knows his stomach is locking up, muscles constricted in bliss so intense that it's almost painful. He feels the muscles of his thighs tense up, and he feels the tremor that works its way through his body, starting at the knees and ending in the throw-back of his head. And then he's swallowing down everything the boy gives him, not a drop missed, and he rises and kisses Ste deeply, letting him taste himself on his tongue, the bittersweet tang.

"C'mon, boy," he growls, pushing Ste to his knees and Ste, still shivering through the aftershocks of his orgasm, obeys with eagerness and an insane hunger to get his lips around that thick cock, to take all of Brendan's nine inches down his throat and feel his man come apart.

_Help me, tear down my reason, help me, it's your sex I can smell,_

_Help me, you make me perfect, help me become somebody else,_

He bobs his head, taking Brendan's dick whole, feeling it pulsate in his mouth, nostrils filled with the smell of hormones and it's intoxicating, knowing that he's the one that Brendan wants, knowing that he's the one that makes him split in two. He hollows his cheeks and sucks and wraps his tongue around Brendan's girth like a pro, the muscles of his throat fluttering against the head, and Brendan's gravelly groans and expletives are the lyrics to his melody of sucks and slurps.

And then he's being yanked to his feet, spun around, and bent over the desk. He feels Brendan's hot tongue against his hole, yelps at the excruciating pleasure of it, nails digging into the wood of the desk when he feels the tip of that tongue pushing against his rim, frantically working its way inside.

_I want to fuck you like an animal,_

_I want to feel you from the inside,_

_I want to fuck you like an animal,_

_My whole existence is flawed, you get me closer to God,_

Brendan pushes past the resistance and gets his tongue in as deep as it can go, slicking the boy up with his saliva, groaning at the sound of Ste moaning shamelessly, the vibrations travelling through his tongue and onto the tight ring of muscle that is currently surrounding it and he feels the boy quake.

He pulls out, sucks his fingers, then pushes his middle finger in, deep and merciless, the boy screaming out in ecstasy, delighting in the combined burning sensation and the toe-curling bliss as Brendan gets his fingertip rubbing against the bundle of nerves inside him. He inserts a second finger, then a third, and without a moment's hesitation or warning, he's in there with his dick, trembling and almost falling onto Ste with the overwhelming heat, the indescribably good feeling of the damp walls of muscle closing around his cock.

Brendan's still in his suit, and there's something gloriously filthy about being taken by a man fully-clothed, something kinky and ultimately hot.

It's rough, hard and frenzied, and devastatingly satisfying: the quick and constant deep plunges of Brendan's dick battering into Ste's hole and against his prostate, their grunts and cries being swallowed up by the music of the club beyond these four walls. Brendan's fingers leave white half-crescents in Ste's hips which he admires proudly, before leaning down and sucking and biting a purple bruise into the skin of Ste's neck.

They come together, earth-shatteringly severe orgasms, senses blinded by white noise, a hot fuzz of ecstasy.

Brendan kisses between Ste's shoulder blades as he pulls out, and the younger boy turns to look at him with shining, gleaming eyes. He's on cloud nine, brutally wrecked, the glow of sex lingering in his cheeks and his skin glossy with a sheen of sweat.

Brendan wouldn't have him any other way.

_Though every forest, above the trees,_

_Within my stomach, scraped off my knees,_

_I drink the honey inside your hive,_

_You are the reason I stay alive._


End file.
